


Love and Other Death-Defying Feats

by fanatic_by_definition



Category: Top Gear (US) RPF
Genre: Adam being sweet, Both the boys being awesome, Dry Humping, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Tanner being temporarily oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-09
Updated: 2013-04-09
Packaged: 2017-12-08 00:59:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/755131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanatic_by_definition/pseuds/fanatic_by_definition
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tanner’s just now realizing the fact that he’s gonna be pretending to be a toy for twenty seconds, and that this stupid stunt could kill him. He needs comfort, and he needs it now. Luckily, he isn't the only one who knows that…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love and Other Death-Defying Feats

**Author's Note:**

> Already posted over at my tumblr, but I decided to share it here too now that I can. This is set during the 2012 summer X-Games, when Tanner and Greg Tracy did the big Double-Loop Dare thing. There was no way that Tanner could have possibly been completely calm and confident about the whole thing, so I kinda ran with that idea and merged it with my love of Foust/Ferrara and this thing happened haha. Hope you like!

Tomorrow.  
  
Tomorrow, he faces a monumental feat. Tomorrow, his career could end - his  _life_  could end. Tomorrow, he and Greg Tracy go up against the scariest thing either of them have ever seen, and they’re expected to conquer it in front of an audience of millions.  
  
The six-story high, blazing orange Double Loop.  
  
Needless to say, Tanner’s seriously reconsidering this whole partnership-with-Hot-Wheels thing.  
  
Sighing, he finishes his second glass of whiskey in half an hour an immediately reaches for the bottle to refill. It’s all finally catching up to him now - the enormity of this task, the danger involved, the strain it’ll put on his and Tracy’s bodies to withstand seven G’s of force and stay awake during it. He’s finally sat down in the privacy and quiet of his own trailer and actually thought about what he’s about to do.  
  
Essentially, he’s about to pretend he’s a toy. There’s only one difference:  
  
Toys can’t die. People can.  
  
This thought rings in Tanner’s head for several moments, rattling around, tormenting him, until he silences it with another swig of whiskey. He sets his glass down on the counter with a loud clatter and runs his hand through his hair for the millionth time that night.  
  
“What am I doing?” he suddenly hears himself ask the empty trailer around him. He continues in a muttered whisper, pacing back and forth in front of the kitchen counter. “What the hell am I doing? I’ve got a career, a  _life_  that I’m risking for this. Why? Why would I do that?”  
  
 _Because it’s just what you do, Foust,_  a voice in his head replies. _It’s what you’ve always done._   _You’ve made a living doing stupid shit like this, risking your life for a few minutes of thrills. You’ve done it before. Why stop now?_  
  
Tanner realizes with some frustration that he can’t answer that question. It’s true, after all - he’s always been an adrenaline junkie. He’s always looked for the next, most dangerous thing he could possibly do, and he’s managed somehow to pull it off every time. For this reason, he is the proud holder of several World Records, and this stunt tomorrow could earn him another one.  
  
But he’s never been this nervous before. Ever.  
  
Maybe it’s the sheer hilarity of it all, of driving a car upside-down on a giant toy racetrack. Maybe it’s the fact that so very many people are watching (then again, that’s never fazed him before). Maybe it’s the number of things that could potentially go wrong.  
  
As Tanner thinks about it, he decides that that last option is probably the right one.  
  
The whiskey is replenished, and the tiny trailer television is switched on to try and get Tanner’s mind off of everything. He wonders what Tracy could be doing right now, what he could be thinking.  
  
 _He’s probably getting a massage from those chicks in his trailer, bragging about how brave he is and how he’s gonna beat me. Probably talking their ears off.  
_  
That, right there - that’s what Tanner needs right now. Someone to talk to, vent to, admit his fears to. He needs company, someone who could just be with him tonight. That would make this whole thing so much easier.  
  
Smiling for the first time in several hours, Tanner turns off the TV and pulls his phone of of his pocket. He thinks of the people he could call, forming a list in his mind:  
  
 _Tracy - nah, too busy with the massage, probably.  
  
Brian - no, he likes to get extra rest before race day; he’s gotta be asleep already.  
  
Rutledge - three hour time zone difference; he’s getting his “beauty sleep”, most likely.  
  
Adam -  
_  
Tanner’s thumb pauses as it scrolls down to Adam’s name in his contact list. Sure, it’s a rather large time difference - also three hours - but unlike Mr. Diva Wood, Adam doesn’t stick to a strict 9:00 bedtime to “avoid getting premature wrinkles”. Also, Adam could provide some comic relief to ease the seemingly chronic tension in Tanner’s shoulders a little. It’s a gamble, but it just might work.  
  
Surprisingly, Adam picks up after the second ring. “Hey, pal! How are ya?”  
  
The mere sound of Adam’s New Yorker accent makes Tanner grin despite himself. “Um, I’m alright, I guess. Sorry for calling you this late; I know there’s a big time difference and everything.”  
  
“Actually, it’s funny you should mention that. It’s also kinda funny that you called me just now, because…”  
  
Adam’s voice trails off, and a few heartbeats later, there’s a knock on Tanner’s trailer door. Tanner’s head snaps up, confusion setting in. “Adam, what…?”  
  
“I’d answer that if I were you.”  
  
Tanner takes the phone away from his ear, stares at the screen for a second, then presses it to his ear again as he stands and walks over to the door. He reaches out, grabs the cheap plastic handle, and turns it.  
  
There, standing on the other side of the door with a suitcase in one hand and his phone still against his ear, is Adam. A massive grin splits his face as he meets Tanner’s gaze. “Fancy meeting you here.”  
  
Tanner’s hand drops down to his side and he stares at his friend, blinking a few times. He shakes his head in disbelief and his grin returns, brighter than before. “How…?” he says quietly.  
  
Adam ends the call and stuffs the phone in the pocket of his dark jeans, never breaking eye contact with Tanner. “I wanted to surprise you the night before your big stunt,” he replies. “Flew in yesterday. I was actually just about to call you when you called me.”  
  
Tanner’s voice - and brain - are still apparently on hiatus at the moment, so all he can do is shake his head again and let out a bark of incredulous laughter.  
  
Adam smiles widely and raises an eyebrow. “You’ve been drinking, haven’t you?”  
  
Tanner shrugs one shoulder. “Maybe a little,” he replies when his voice returns.  
  
“Well I hope you got some left, cuz I’ve been lookin’ forward to a liquid dinner. You gonna invite me in?”  
  
Tanner nods and steps aside, and Adam steps through the doorway, shutting the door behind himself. He drops his suitcase against the wall and slips his black jacket off, hanging it on a hook beside Tanner’s Rockstar hoodie. The sleeves of his dark blue shirt are rolled up to his elbows, and he adjusts their lengths as he looks around the trailer, nodding appreciatively. “Nice place, actually.”  
  
“It’s not bad,” Tanner says with another shrug, casting a casual glance around himself. “I’ve had worse.” He shifts his gaze back to his friend, and his tone becomes serious. “You didn’t have to do this, you know.”  
  
“Yes I did,” Adam replies immediately, meeting Tanner’s hazel eyes with his own green ones. “I know you, Tanner, so I know when you need someone to talk to. I figured this would be one of those times.”  
  
“You were right.” The stunt driver nods a few times. After a pause, he takes a few steps forward. “Thank you, Adam.”  
  
“Eh, it was nothin’, really.”  
  
“It’s not nothing,” Tanner insists. He blinks slowly. “You knew I needed someone, and you were there for me.” A soft smile spreads across his face, and before Adam has time to react, Tanner’s got his arms around him and is holding on like he’s never gonna let go.  
  
“Thank you,” Tanner says one more time, his voice muffled by Adam’s right shoulder.  
  
A few seconds later, he feels two strong arms encircle him in return, and he does his best to keep from completely melting into the sheer warmth that is Adam Ferrara. He’s actually never hugged Adam before, and he’s regretting it now as a sense of impossible calm washes over him. God, the man’s like a furnace; his arms are practically heating coils around Tanner’s middle. He smells like coffee and airplanes and Manhattan, and it’s wonderful. Tanner closes his eyes, reveling in Adam as a whole, and the tension in his muscles all but evaporates.  
  
“You’re welcome, pal,” Adam murmurs into Tanner’s spiky brown hair. Tanner responds with a contented sigh.  
  
~•~•~•~•~  
  
The rest of the night consists of watching television and chatting, with a side of alcohol. As they sit side-by-side on the sofa in the tiny living room, sipping beer and pretty much ignoring “The Godfather”, Tanner confesses to Adam almost every one of his fears about tomorrow. He explains the physics of the loop, the risks, and every little thing that can possibly go wrong. Adam just listens silently, nodding every minute or so and nursing his drink.  
  
“…And if we don’t hit the ramp at just the right speed, there won’t be enough force to keep us sticking to the track when we go upside-down, and-“  
  
“What could go right?”  
  
This quietly-spoken question catches Tanner completely off-guard, and he falters. “Huh?”  
  
“What’re some things that could go right?” Adam asks again, turning to meet Tanner’s gaze evenly. When the younger man doesn’t respond right away, he continues. “Come on, there’s gotta be at least a few.”  
  
Tanner just blinks and considers for a moment. “Well…” With all the trepidation he’s been feeling about this stunt for the past, well, month, he hasn’t really had room in his mind to think about the positives of the whole situation. Kind of ironic that the pessimistic New Yorker beside him would be the one to remind him that life isn’t all bad all the time. “…If it does work, we’ll have a world record. And I’ll get an even more solid partnership deal with Hot Wheels - they might even sponsor my rallying.” A small smile finds its way onto his face then. “And I’ll get to say I was a toy for twenty seconds. That’s pretty cool.”  
  
“Yeah, it is!” Adam replies enthusiastically, his trademark toothy grin revealing itself. “See? That’s all you gotta do tomorrow, pal. Focus on that stuff.” He sets his bottle down on the coffee table and turns on the sofa so he’s fully facing the rally star now. “You’ll do great. You’ll be in the history books - well, the X-Games history books, at least. Just look up and hold your breath at the top, and you’ll be fine.”  
  
Tanner sucks in a tiny breath as Adam’s hand rests on his shoulder and squeezes. “Alright?” the actor asks finally.  
  
For a moment, Tanner is speechless. Adam didn’t have to say all that, didn’t have to talk to him like he was the freaking coach of the thing - hell, he didn’t even have to be here at all. And yet here he was, telling Tanner not to fear, telling him he would be just fine. Those typically empty compliments suddenly mean the world to the stunt driver, and he discovers that his smile has gone a little wobbly.  ”Thank you,” he says when he remembers how to speak.  
  
“Anytime, Raceboy.” Adam pats Tanner’s shoulder once more and then releases, shifting back to his previous position on the sofa.  
  
Ten minutes later, the movie credits are rolling, and the clock on the far wall says it’s almost midnight. There’s something Tanner desperately wants to do, desperately wants to ask, but he doesn’t know quite how. He’s never been scared of his older colleague before, but something about those green-hazel eyes and that accent is doing…unfamiliar things to him tonight and he’s a little confused.  
  
He knows what a crush feels like - doesn’t everyone? - but he never in his life expected that he’d one day have a crush on a 46-year-old, short-tempered New Yorker. And yet, the more Tanner examines this strange feeling in his stomach, the more he realizes that he most certainly is attracted to Adam Ferrara and everything he is.  
  
 _Well, shit.  
_  
Tanner takes a deep breath and turns to look at the older man, who is just finishing his second beer. Adam meets his gaze and smiles around the bottle, taking it away from his lips when the final drops of liquid are gone. Tanner has to tear his eyes away after a moment because of the sheer  _hotness_  of that image; he hadn’t been expecting it to send such a powerful spike of desire coursing through him.  
  
As he tries to get a grip on the remnants of his sanity, Tanner hears Adam sigh beside him. “Well, it’s tomorrow,” the actor says, no doubt looking at the clock. “You’d better get some sleep, pal. You’re gonna need it.”  
  
“Yeah,” Tanner replies with a hasty nod. He works up the nerve to look at his friend again, and their eyes meet. “If I fall asleep behind the wheel of that car, I’m in serious trouble.”  
  
“That is true,” Adam chuckles and flashes that stunning grin.  
  
They sit there on the couch, staring at one another a bit awkwardly for a few seconds. Tanner wants to ask, he really does, but he’s terrified what his colleague might think. So much could be read into the request he is dying to make, and so much could change because of it. He’s pretty sure he’s exaggerating a little, but it’s late and he’s had a drink and actually, neither of them are entirely sober right now.  
  
So as Adam smiles one last time, gets up off the couch, and says “Goodnight” in an almost sad voice, Tanner reaches out and grabs his wrist.  
  
“Wait.”  
  
Adam glances down at the point of contact, then back up to Tanner’s face. Those mesmerizing eyes hold a million and three questions in their hazel depths, but only one manages to find its way out of the older man’s mouth: “What’s wrong?”  
  
Tanner takes a deep breath, hesitating momentarily. Come on, Foust. Do it. Stop being such a coward and do it. “Could you…Could you stay, Adam? I-I really don’t wanna be alone. Not…Not tonight.” He blinks, hoping his eyes reflect the urgency of his request. “Please?”  
  
There isn’t more than a second of silence before Adam nods and replies sincerely, “Of course I will.” He moves back to the couch and sits down, his wrist still firmly grasped in Tanner’s right hand. A small, playful smirk forms on his face, but his earnestness is still there. “Still nervous about tomorrow, eh?”  
  
The stunt driver just nods, and suddenly the small tear in the knee of his jeans is fascinating to him. He stares at it fixedly as he murmurs, “Dunno if I can sleep alone. I…sometimes get nightmares when I’m stressed like this.”  
  
He’s never told anyone that before. None of his other friends know that little fact about Tanner, and he’d much prefer it to stay that way. Hell, he doesn’t even want Rutledge to know. And here he is all of a sudden, running his mouth off to Adam as if he were talking to an empty trailer again.  
  
Well, Adam’s been breaking several barriers of his tonight anyway, so what does it even matter anymore?  
  
The actor nods in understanding. “I know how that feels, pal,” he says. He looks at Tanner for a moment, then says simply, “C’mere.” He shifts slightly on the couch so that he’s flush against the armrest and leaning back into the threadbare cushions a little. With a gentle tug, he hoists Tanner towards himself and the younger man puts up no resistance, practically falling into the warmth of Adam’s body.  
  
A few seconds later, Tanner finds himself lying on his side across the old sofa with his head and shoulders resting comfortably in Adam’s lap, his head pillowed by a crooked arm. The New Yorker’s fingers are carding lightly through his hair in soothing little motions, practically casting the tension away from Tanner’s muscles with every flick of his wrist. The rally star gives up on trying to resist whatever it is that’s been happening between them tonight and he closes his eyes, his whole body melting into the couch and into Adam.  
  
Tanner lets out a relieved sigh and Adam laughs quietly. “This is what my mother used to do for me when I couldn’t sleep,” he says with a hint of nostalgia in his voice. “I thought it might work for you too.”  
  
“‘S working,” Tanner slurs. “Def’nitely working.” He can feel himself drifting off with every passing moment; never before has he felt more content.  
  
He thinks Adam might be singing then, but he’s not sure. Unfortunately, the darkness sneaks up on him and envelops him completely before he can identify the tune.  
  
~•~•~•~•~  
  
“Psst. Tanner.”  
  
The soft voice manages to cut through the haze of sleep surrounding the stunt driver and he opens his eyes a little. “Hmm?” he grunts blearily, not sure who the voice belongs to or why he feels so fantastically rested.  
  
“C’mon, Raceboy, time to get up. I made breakfast.”  
  
The accent is more profound now, the gentle grip on his shoulder more familiar, and recognition hits Tanner like a steam engine. His eyes fly open and he sits up dramatically, looking around the trailer’s “living room”. Images and feelings from last night resurface in an instant, and he turns to the man standing above him. Green eyes meet hazel. “Adam…?”  
  
“Hallelujah, he speaks,” his friend replies with a small, fond smile on his face. He straightens, releasing Tanner’s shoulder. “Didya sleep okay? Seemed like it.”  
  
Memories of a warm lap and hands gently combing through his hair return to Tanner then. He looks down at the couch and finds that his head had been transferred to a small pillow at some point in the night; also, the weight of a blanket is suddenly apparent on his shoulders. He’s confused and more than a little touched, and he looks up at Adam with what he sincerely hopes is total gratitude in his eyes. “You did this,” he says in awe, making it more if a statement than a question.  
  
“I tried to fall asleep sitting there, but I just couldn’t,” Adam replies somewhat sheepishly. “So I propped you up on a pillow and prayed you wouldn’t wake up while I moved. Slept on the floor next to ya.”  
  
This man. This wonderful, selfless, considerate,  _beautiful_  man did all that just to keep Tanner company, to keep him comfortable and safe. The younger man can hardly believe it. “Adam…you didn’t have to do all that, man.”  
  
“You said you didn’t wanna be alone.” Adam shrugged. “So I didn’t leave you.” He says it like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like it’s been expected of him from the beginning.  
  
Tanner realizes suddenly that he simply cannot wait another moment to do what he’s wanted to do for, well, ever, now that he thinks about it. He shakes his head and, in one fluid motion, gets up off the couch, takes Adam’s face in his hands, and kisses him.  
  
The New Yorker tastes like toothpaste and Tanner is vaguely aware that he himself must have morning breath, but he can’t bring himself to care at the moment. Until last night, he hadn’t even known this was what he wanted - maybe deep down within him it’s always been a secret desire; he’s not entirely sure. This just feels so right, so destined that it nearly takes his breath away. All he’s thinking about at this moment is Adam standing here in front of him, solid and warm and real and -  
  
 _\- not moving.  
_  
Panic rises in Tanner’s throat at once. He tenses briefly and starts to move away, shame beating down on him like an August sun, but he’s stopped by a pair of large hands pressing into his back and holding him in place. A gasp escapes his lips and he prolongs the kiss for a few more seconds before breaking away, hooded eyes slowly opening to stare at Adam.  
  
The older man is staring right back at him, lips parted and pupils blown somewhat. Just before Tanner lets the panic get a complete hold on him, Adam swallows, grins, and asks quietly, “What took ya so long, Romeo?”  
  
A startled blink is all the communication Tanner can manage at first. His mouth opens and closes several times, trying to form words, but the feeling of Adam’s warm hands still settled on his lower back is extremely distracting. Finally, he manages a feeble “I dunno” and an uncertain smile.  
  
Adam laughs at that. “Well,” he says, shifting his hands to Tanner’s hips, “as much as I’d love to continue this exploration of your newfound courage, you have a positively awful case of morning breath and your breakfast is still waiting.”  
  
“Right,” Tanner says and feels his cheeks heating up with every rapid beat of his heart. “Better go, er…eat that.”  
  
“Yeah.” Adam smiles widely. He gives the younger man’s hipbones a gentle squeeze before releasing them. “Go on. I made it myself.”  
  
Breakfast, as it turns out, is a large bowl of corn flakes and a glass of orange juice with a sliced apple on the side. It’s not the most glamorous meal, but the trailer isn’t exactly well-stocked and quite frankly, Tanner is surprised Adam managed to cut the apple without hurting himself. He scarfs down the food and brushes his teeth faster than he ever has in his life, then finds Adam casually sitting on the sofa in the living room. The older man doesn’t look at all like he’s just had a sexual identity crisis, but then again, maybe it’s not that much of a crisis for him. Tanner, on the other hand, is freaking out inside for many different reasons.  
  
Adam seems to deduce this from Tanner’s rather pensive expression, and he picks up the remote and switches off the TV. Shifting on the sofa, he pats the cushion beside him. “Siddown, Raceboy. We gotta talk.”  
  
“Yeah, we do,” Tanner replies, having found his voice again. He walks over and takes a seat. Meeting Adam’s eyes, he begins to explain himself: “First of all, I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. I guess it’s just that…you did so much for me last night, and you’re always there for me, and you’re so goddamn  _loyal_ it makes my head spin sometimes.” He pauses and looks down at his hands in his lap, fiddling with a fingernail. “I…I’ve always been sorta attracted to you, now that I think about it, and…last night made me stop second-guessing myself. But I just have one question.” He glances up again, almost bashful. “Why? Why do you do all that for me? What did I ever do to deserve you?”  
  
By the time he’s finished, Adam has a dopey grin on his face. He looks at Tanner with such adoration and fondness that it takes the younger man’s breath away. “You deserve so much more than what I’ve given you so far, pal,” he says. “It’s not that you’ve done anything to earn it. I do it just cuz I want to.” Something in his eyes changes then, and his grin fades a little. “You scare me on a regular basis with all that drifting and stunt crap, and I’ve always felt protective of you…I dunno when it turned into an attraction, but it did.” He lifts a hand to carefully brush the side of Tanner’s face, his thumb caressing the stunt driver’s cheekbone. “You’re amazing, Tanner Foust, and you deserve to have someone around that’ll tell you that every once and awhile. All I’m sayin’ is…it could be me, if you want.”  
  
Tanner has no idea what to say to that, so he just takes Adam’s hand in his own and kisses him again. No one has ever said such sweet things to him before, and it’s almost overwhelming to him. Because he doesn’t know what else to do, he pours all that emotion and gratitude into this kiss.  
  
It starts off rather chaste and cautious, but in a matter of seconds they’re both hungry for more. Adam winds one arm around Tanner’s waist and tugs him closer, and his other hand reaches up to wrap around the back of Tanner’s neck. The younger man sighs into Adam’s mouth and tilts his head as he reaches up himself, his hands finding their way to the New Yorker’s thick raven hair and pulling. Their mouths fit together naturally, and they spend a few minutes just savoring the other’s taste.  
  
“Yes,” Tanner breathes between kisses, his eyes remaining closed. He ravishes Adam’s mouth as thoroughly as he can without bruising it.  ”You. Want it to be you.  _Want_  you, Adam…”  
  
“Tanner.” The sound that comes out of Adam’s mouth is a low, animalistic growl. “ _Tan-ner_.”

  
“Oh…” Never has his name sounded so sexy coming from someone else’s lips.  
  
The kiss heats up some more, until Adam drags his mouth down to the side of Tanner’s neck. Harsh, possessive nips are peppered along the sensitive skin there, then soothed with a gentle brush of lips. Tanner shuts his eyes tightly and tilts his head back, offering up more skin for Adam to mark, claim, own. He shifts a little on the couch and finds that his jeans are becoming very uncomfortable, very fast. As if of their own accord, his hips twitch forwards and his crotch brushes against Adam’s side just enough to make him gasp.  
  
Just like that, the illusion is shattered for a few terrifying seconds and Tanner is abruptly reminded of just who it is he’s kissing and rubbing against like this. Adam is his best friend; what the hell are they doing? They’re making out and practically having sex, that’s what they’re doing, and it’s insane. Whatever happens on this ratty old sofa in Los Angeles will never be erased from their minds, and they will live with it forever. There’s no going back from this.  
  
” _Adam_ ,” he manages to choke out between whimpers and gets a better grip on the writhing Italian moving slowly into his lap. “A-Adam, stop, please, just a minute.”  
  
Adam looks up at him, lips puffy and pupils blown impossibly wide with lust. He looks almost irritated, eager to get back to his work on Tanner’s thoroughly debauched neck.  
  
Tanner meets his eyes and swallows hard. “What’re we doing?” he rasps. One of his hands comes up to brush a few strands of dark hair off of his friend’s forehead. “I mean, it’s great and everything, but…is this all there’s gonna be? Is this just a one-time thing, or…?”  
  
All Adam does is lean in and plant a firm, assertive kiss on Tanner’s mouth. When he pulls back, he takes Tanner’s face in his hands and says decidedly, his voice not as ruined as the stunt driver’s, “I sure hope it’s not. I’ve wanted this for so long, and now that I’ve got it ain’t no way in hell I’m giving it up again.” He pauses, and a devilish grin splits his face. “Cuz baby, the  _sounds_ you make…I could listen to you all day.”  
  
Tanner feels his face growing even hotter than it was before, but he still smiles, his anxiety gone. He could get used to the name “baby”. “I was hoping you’d say something like that,” he says and kisses the corner of Adam’s mouth. “What’re you waiting for, then? You haven’t even heard my full range of volume yet.”  
  
A growl is all Tanner gets in response before the New Yorker attacks his lips again, more forcefully now. He feels himself being pushed back onto the couch and doesn’t resist, and soon he’s lying on his back across the cushions with Adam looming above him. The older man flashes a wolfish grin and proceeds to hike up the hem of Tanner’s t-shirt, which they somehow manage to get off and fling across the room. Tanner winds his arms around Adam’s neck as Adam starts kissing his way down the toned, freckled expanse of skin he has just revealed.  
  
“Adam… _oh_ , your mouth…” Tanner bites out as the comedian’s tongue finds one of his nipples and laves a hot stripe over it. “ _Shit_ …” His hips cant upwards again and this time come in direct contact with Adam’s own denim-covered erection.  
  
Adam lifts his mouth up from the rally star’s bare chest and moans at the friction, eyes closing and lips parting deliciously. It’s the dirtiest sound Tanner’s ever heard in his life, and he grunts as he bucks his hips again to try and re-create it.  
  
“Ah,  _Tanner_!” Adam cries out and buries his face in the crook of his new lover’s neck. Shifting so that their legs are more comfortably slotted together, he lifts his pelvis and grinds it back down hard onto Tanner’s.  
  
Seeking more contact, Tanner’s body arches up into Adam’s and the feeling is exquisite. “Oh god, oh yes, yes,” he practically sobs, the pleasure crackling through every nerve ending making his sight go dim for a few moments. The New Yorker responds by repeating the motion, this time circling his hips a little and bending down to latch his mouth onto Tanner’s bare collarbone, sucking a bruise there that would last a few days at least. “Mmm, Adam, yeah, like that,  _just like that…_ ”  
  
They’ve been friends now for almost three years. During that time, feelings had arisen deep within them that they themselves weren’t even able to grasp until this day. In this moment, here, now, on an old sofa in a trailer in a parking lot somewhere near downtown Los Angeles, these feelings are finally beginning to come forth and show themselves. This moment is the culmination of Adam and Tanner’s relationship, and they both know it all too well.  
  
It doesn’t take long for the friction, combined with Adam’s too-talented mouth worshipping his naked torso, to send Tanner over the edge. Gripping his friend’s shoulders tightly, he throws his head back and lets out a shout as he thrusts once, twice, and comes in his jeans, fireworks igniting behind his eyelids. Wave after wave of delirium and ecstasy washes over him and all he can do is hold fast to Adam and ride it out, whimpering and gasping and moaning all the while.  
  
“T-Tanner…” Adam’s voice is gravelly and deep as he groans against the stunt driver’s neck. His hips are moving desperately against the now-pliant body beneath him, and a few seconds later he’s tumbling over the edge of that glorious cliff as well. “Tanner, oh my  _god_!”  
  
The two of them lie there on the sofa in their ruined pants for several minutes afterwards, sharing lazy kisses and smiles. Tanner tangles his hand in Adam’s hair as he invades the actor’s mouth, and he thinks to himself that he couldn’t possibly be more content than he is now. He’s completely and utterly wrapped up in this wonderful, magnificent man that he thinks he might even love, and he can’t recall ever feeling more at peace.  
  
 _Too bad I gotta go upside-down on a giant loop soon.  
  
Oh…oh crap!  
_  
“Crap!” Tanner regretfully breaks the kiss he’s been engaged in for a good two minutes and shoves Adam off himself, getting to his feet on shaking legs. He meets Adam’s bewildered gaze and exclaims, “The stunt! I’ve gotta be at the loop in-” The clock on the wall says it’s 10:23 a.m. “-aw hell, like twenty minutes!”  
  
“Well, what’re ya waiting for, Raceboy?” Adam says, thankfully not hurt by the abrupt end to their make out session. “Go on, shower, get dressed! Television waits for no one!”  
  
“Yeah,” Tanner mutters. He’s about to run off to the bedroom, but on second thought he stops, hurries over to the sofa and kisses Adam one more time, soft and sweet. “Couldn’t resist,” he says slyly when he pulls back, smirking.  
  
“Oh, go clean yourself up,” Adam huffs, but his cheeks take on a distinct shade of rose.  
  
Ten minutes later, Tanner emerges from the tiny trailer bathroom freshly showered and dressed in his yellow-and-black Hot Wheels fireproof suit. He smirks as he notices Adam getting dressed as well, buttoning up a clean shirt. “Lemme help you with that,” he says softly and walks over to him.  
  
Adam turns at the sound of his colleague’s voice and smiles. His hands fall away from the buttons in an invitation. “Have at it, babe.”  
  
The stunt driver fastens the remaining five buttons slowly, taking time to run his fingertips along Adam’s warm, broad chest. Adam doesn’t object, and he simply loops his arms around Tanner’s waist and leans into the touch.  
  
When the shirt is fully closed and the collar is straight, Tanner looks up into the hazel-green depths of his New Yorker’s eyes almost shyly. “You look perfect,” he says, his voice soft.  
  
“And you,” Adam replies, kissing Tanner tenderly, “look almost unbearably sexy in that racing suit.” A laugh escapes him after a moment. “God, I’ve been wanting to tell you that for so long!”  
  
“I know the feeling,” Tanner assures him, laughing himself.  
  
They stand together like that for several seconds, kissing again (because Adam just can’t resist the temptation to taste that adorable giggle), and all is right with the universe. It’s just the two of them, floating, losing themselves in each other and wondering why on Earth it took them this long to get to this point.  
  
Oxygen becomes a dire need for them after a minute or so, and they break apart with a simultaneous gasp. Something has changed in Adam, however - Tanner can tell by the way the grip around his waist tightens - and there is no mirth in his voice when he says, “I don’t care how much you wanna beat that Tracy guy, I want you coming down from that goddamned loop alive. You understand me? You gotta come back in one piece. You gotta come back to me.”  
  
Tanner’s eyes open at the urgency in his lover’s voice, and he isn’t surprised to find a pair of hazel orbs already staring into his own. A lump manifests in his throat all of a sudden; he has to swallow around it before he can reply properly: “I will.” His voice is firm, unwavering.  
  
Adam’s gaze is, as well. “Promise me.”  
  
“I promise.”  
  
Tanner feels the older man’s hands come up to hold his face and he melts into this next kiss, reveling in the deep, languid pace of it. Every thought leaves his mind except one name, repeating itself over and over in a sort of chant:  _Adam, Adam, Adam…_ _  
_  
It doesn’t last for long, unfortunately, because the clock on the wall soon reads 10:40 and Tanner knows he’s running out of time. Reluctantly, he pulls back and gives a sad smile. “I don’t think they’d let you near the stunt, so I guess you gotta…stay here then.”  
  
“Yeah.” Adam nods seriously and brushes his thumb over a freckled cheekbone. “I’ll be here when you’re done, okay?”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
They untangle themselves from each other and Tanner grabs his helmet and gloves from the bedroom. He’s gotta be at the Loop in five minutes, and it’ll take him ten to get there. Well, at least I’ll be late for a worthwhile reason, he thinks smugly as he tightens the glove around his left wrist.  
  
Just before he walks out the door of the trailer, Adam gives him a breath-stealing kiss and a suffocating hug. “Good luck,” he mutters against the younger man’s lips, then releases him.  
  
Tanner nods, smiles in a way he hopes is reassuring, and turns away from his friend. He walks towards the edge of the parking lot without looking back, afraid that if he did he would be even more compelled to bail on this ridiculous stunt. At the same time, he’s almost desperate to get in that car and drive it upside-down for millions of people to see. To tell the truth, he can hardly wait.  
  
Because for the first time in years of needlessly defying death for the sake of a few seconds of thrills, he has someone in his life worth surviving for.  
  
~•~•~•~•~  
  
Tracy reaches the finish first in the end, and to be honest Tanner doesn’t really care. He’s just excited that he made it out okay. He’d misjudged the distance between the ramp at the base of the loop and the end platform and had almost failed to make the jump; his Fiesta had been extremely close to plowing nose-first into the edge of the platform. But he’d earned another World Record, gotten a little more famous, and lasted through the whole thing without blowing up the car or dislocating any joints. Oh, and he’d refrained from punching the smugness right off Tracy’s chiseled face.  
  
It has been a good day. A great one, really.  
  
After the interviews and the photographs with the older driver, Tanner tells the crowd that he’s got to head back to his trailer now to change.  
  
“Why so soon?” Tracy asks, still posing for snapshots. He grins almost wickedly. “You got a girl back there or something?”  
  
“As far as you know,” Tanner replies cryptically, meeting Tracy’s eyes. He unfastens the collar of his suit and tugs the Under Armour down past his collarbone, revealing a dark hickey there about the size of a silver dollar coin. With a smug wink, he turns and leaves the scene without another word.  
  
 _Let him think about_ that _for awhile._  
  
~•~•~•~•~  
  
Adam’s embrace is the most welcomed sensation Tanner could ask for when he walks through the door of his trailer.  _Home_ , he thinks as the New Yorker peppers his neck with feathersoft kisses and murmurs praise against his skin. _This feels like home._  
  
The sex they have that night can’t really be called “sex” - there’s far too much emotion involved for it to be deemed something so simplistic. Trust, pride, desperation, lust, tenderness, greed, passion,  _love_  - so, so much love that Tanner thinks he’s going to drown in it - these things are all present betwixt their heated flesh as they writhe together on the uncomfortable trailer bed. Tanner lets all the anxiety and trepidation he’d felt before and during the stunt melt away in Adam’s arms, in his kiss, and Adam worships every inch of skin he can reach to erase from both of their minds those terrifying few moments where the younger man had almost missed that jump.  
  
When they’re finished and spent and lying next to each other beneath the starchy sheets, Tanner looks up from his vantage point of Adam’s chest and meets his lover’s eyes. “Adam?”  
  
“Yeah?” Gentle fingers card through his hair in a soothing rhythm.  
  
“I, er…I-I think I might…love you.”  
  
“Glad you’re finally coming to terms with that fact, Raceboy.” Adam plants a kiss in the stunt driver’s sweaty brunette locks. After a moment, he murmurs, “Love you too.”  
  
“Good.” Tanner can’t keep the massive smile from splitting his face then. “Say it again.” Validation is important.  
  
Adam chuckles, but concedes. “I love you.”  
  
“Again.”  
  
“I love you, Tanner.”  
  
“Again…”  
  
“I love you. I love you, I love you, I love…”  
  
The softly-spoken mantra is repeated probably a hundred times, but Tanner is asleep before the count reaches ten.


End file.
